Reinventing the electric drill

Some may question why a small, young, chronically-poisoned ape would scale the side of an underground volcano. To that Researcher responds: why not?

Researcher lived for one purpose: to investigate. To learn everything there is to know about the caves. And now that she had a group, a society depending on her, this goal was felt stronger than ever. Her first task was exploring: exploring the crystalline caves, exploring the tunnels that hissed with magma, and here, exploring what this firey mountain was.

The golden-haired gibbon lifted herself over a boulder and panted heavily, her breath frosting on her noxious stone. Half-hidden by waving ferns and dappled gold sunlight was a cave entrance carved into the side of the slope. Ghastly eyes looked over it in cold interest. A bird squawked. She meticulously dusted off her fur and ventured inside.

'Dark. Hotter than the surface. Unusual. The ground is usually cooler than open air. Need more testing.' And then the tunnel opened up to a great workshop, decorated with tools beyond her comprehension. If she wasn't so put together (and if there wasn't a massive gem blocking her way) her jaw would've dropped. Sleek, sharpened tools that shimmer in the light. Vials of colorful liquids on display. Footprints on the ground implied habitation. Who lived here? What was its purpose?

Pondering these questions, the ape picked up the closest 'thing' she could find and admired it. Even scientists aren't immune to shiny things.

Karyo had to admit, they really hadn't thought coming to Leo was the greatest idea. I mean, come on, that tunnel seemed like it'd burn us to death before leading anywhere good! But Researcher had been so confident, and usually made such good decisions, that Karyo just couldn't say no. And look how well it'd turned out! This room might be slightly more humid (new word! They were getting smarter just being around Researcher!) than they preferred, but look at all the life there was!

Which had to mean there was plenty of their... invisible friends! (They'd have to come up with a better name for it sometime soon.) They were tiny and white and magical and everywhere, and Karyo had developed a fascination with them. It was their magic, unique to them, so of course they should be the one to find out all about it!

Bounding along after Researcher, the hound paused a moment to extend their magic around them. They'd meant it as a quick check, nothing more than a metaphorical glance at their surroundings. But there were so many of the tiny things here that everything suddenly went white as their magic flared. Karyo stumbled at the sudden overload, smashed a toe into a rock, and barely stifled a shriek of pain. They hopped about on three legs, shaking their injured foot to try to make the pain go away. Maybe... maybe their personal research projects could wait for now. They'd just go along with what Researcher was doing!

Karyo sprinted forward to catch up, skirting around or jumping over rocks. They didn't slow down until well after they probably should have--by the time they caught up with Researcher, they were practically barreling through the workshop entrance. Skidding to a halt much too late, three trinkets and a set of eye protection went tumbling to the floor in their wake.

Karyo leapt back, staring at the fallen objects. "...oh," they murmured, rather sheepishly, and dipped their head to sniff at the items. "They smell like smoke. And a person, maybe. Is there a baby here...?"

Lightly scaled hands, rough and calloused with years and years of working by the Underforge's fire, ghosted over the surface of a halberd. Its haft was carved from one of Leo's old-growth trees, the curved axe-blade a bronze alloy poured into a well-used cast. The length of it was too small for him to ever use, but perhaps... someone who could find good purpose for it would come by—

Oh, but someone was here.

The Blacksmith gathered the folds of his cloak in one hand, leaving his work behind in a smooth motion. His hunched form glided along the padded-smooth floor; and, with a smooth cli-clop! of hooves, he gazed down at the mess along the floor. Oh, he ought clear this place up, if there would be visitors (although, he had his fair share of those that would knock things over on purpose, with not an ounce of courtesy.)

"Oh..." came his rasping voice, "you... are alright? Yes... ?" Behind the patterned mask, his gaze roamed around the place. "This is... alright."

He stooped low, reaching to gather up what he could. As he did, the Blacksmith continued. "Welcome... to my Forge... little ones..." Every syllable came slow, carefully enunciated. "What brings you... here?"

Eyes flitted towards the one bearing hands, and he straightened to set all of his miscellany atop the nearest table. She'd picked up a curious thing—but, an unfortunately poor quality thing. "That... is a chisel... I made..." The creature strode closer, hunching lower to pick up a loose stone along the way, and held it out to her. "It's metal... it is too... soft to... break hard stone... ore..." he explained softly, "it... could be used to... carve more gentle stone... or... chip off pieces..."

There was a faintly wistful tone, there. There should be more artistry in these Caves—there had been, even before this age...

Researcher's head cocked slightly as Karyo came skidding onto the scene. She rubbed the metal beneath her fingers. "No saying "baby"s right now. We're in professional mode right now, remember?" Her eyes narrowed, but not in an angry way. Just, well, professional. Time was speeding by, and she couldn't just act like a child forever.

Researcher's eyes widened back up when the Blacksmith came into view. "Oh-- ahem. Yes. We're alright." She straightened up on her gangly legs and held the chisel in view. The creature was huge, his face hidden by an ornate mask. 'Looks interesting... hazardous dust protection, perhaps? Though that wouldn't be much use for me...' "I am designated Researcher, this is Karyo. We're from the Laboratory. Investigating the caves." Her voice was dull and muffled behind her toxic mask.

The ape watched the Blacksmith's actions with interest, using a finger to touch the stone as he offered it out to her. Listening to his words, she picked it up and held the chisel with the other hand, and pressed its medal edge into the pebble. When she pulled away, a small piece of rock chipped off, leaving a dusty indention.

"Fascinating," Researcher marveled, looking back up at the Blacksmith. "You have a nice Forge here. Karyo, and I, and-- well, there's a lot of us-- we're constructing a research station far from here. Aiming to build it partially into the cave walls for greater protection. Progress has been slow due to the density of rock. But this here-- your metal-- it can scratch stone with just a touch! And this is a softer one?"

An idea was formulating in her head. She turned towards the Saluki. "Karyo, be a dear and approximate the size and structure of this location for the record later. Let me know if you see anything interesting." Researcher brought her attention back to the craftsman. Her eyes burned with a fiery passion for innovation. "Sir, what else do you make? Are any available to bring with us, and what could we give you as payment?"

Karyo blinked. "Oh, yeah! I can be professional! …what's the professional word for a baby?" The last part was whispered theatrically. Hmm... a professional word would be needed for their little invisible friends, too! I could call them… prokaryotes! For Professional Karyo! They liked that name. It sounded very smart!

They tilted their head at the Blacksmith as he came in. He didn't look like a baby! He was tall! Like Thalia. And he had a rock over his face just like Researcher and Assistant! It seemed to be a trait common to friends. Maybe they could be friends--? Karyo looked down at the mess guiltily, but it was soon forgotten as he began speaking again.

"You make things? We make things too!" they informed him happily, tail wagging. Well, more like they were kind of thinking about making things at the moment, but Karyo was confident they'd get it done soon enough. Researcher was giving the Blacksmith more detail, which was great, because Karyo really didn't feel like talking about one thing for a long time right now.

Instead, they took their assignment with their usual cheer. Using their body as a sort of ruler, they lined up their nose with a wall and began to flip back and forth as they moved, doing their best not to knock anything over. Karyo was pretty sure they were still growing—but hey, they couldn't possibly get that much bigger in the time it took them to make it back to the tornado room, right?

They only paused in their task to sniff at a rack of weapons, but quickly lost interest in those. They were all so sharp and spiky, and they didn't have the wiggly toes to hold them like Researcher did.

Designated... ? Laboratory? The Blacksmith furrowed his eyes beneath his mask, but otherwise betrayed nothing of the thought. Such strange words, so... clinical. Though, he was not going to judge—merely watch with a rapt fascination as the ape conducted her own sort of experiment. Such a novel thing, chipping off a piece of stone.

"Thank... you..." He rasped after the compliment. Scaled hands ghosted over one of many workstations, drumming along its surface before idly plucking a piece of scrap. Some metal shard, abused by perhaps a warhammer or equally as blunt weapon. "You... are digging... ?" Gears turned carefully in the tall creature's head, and he glided across the floor as he wheezed. "That one—the... metal... took poorly to... the heat. A mistake..." The Blacksmith did not sound especially disheartened by this.

Kneeling down, he explained, slow and careful as ever. "I make... many things... for many... purposes..." A clawed hand held up the discarded remains of a halberd. "Repair... too..." Its blade was chipped, cracked, treated poorly by heat—perhaps an apprentice had made this one, a few millennia back...

A glance was spared toward Karyo and their... methods of measurement. Strange, but perhaps endearing. He could offer them, too, something for such a purpose. He padded his way elsewhere in the Forge, careful to keep his voice—rasping and muffled as it was—high enough to be heard over bubbling magma and sparking metals in their crucibles. "I... simply enjoy... my work... I... do not worry... about payment..." Except for kindness, maybe...

He picked up a serrated knife as he strode by one set upon a table, briefly dipped it in some seething melting pot, and took it to a coil of rope once he'd pulled it out to match his own wingspan. The braided plant fibers hissed their protest before burning black and sealing at the ends. Smoothing over the crystallizing sap with the pads of his fingers, he wound it over an arm, and made his way back to the Researcher and her companion.

Offering it, he rasped. "To... measure... with. It will stay... the same size... As you... need it to." And, again, the Blacksmith continued. "The chisel... will not... make your digging... easier..." To that end, he tapped the pads of his fingers together, smearing burnt sap between them. "I used to... make... what is called... a pickaxe... though—they... were larger than... even you..." The heads alone outsized either of them, meant to be wielded by burly beasts of burden and those punished for even a smidge of rebellious thought.

"If you... require one for... your aid... I can construct one..." A single digit rose, wait. "It... will take... time... material... You are... welcome to watch..."